Agent 00?
by Follow-ur-Shadow
Summary: Harvey and Donna are thrown into a world of chaos when the charity gala they're attending is taken under siege.
1. Chapter 1

**Agent 00?**

**Category:** Action/Romance

**Summary:** Harvey and Donna are thrown into a world of chaos when the charity gala they're attending is taken under siege.

**AN:** There was a comment on twitter in reference to Harvey looking like the next James Bond and this story has been stuck in my head ever since! Thank you to Jess_darveymylove for being my beta :) I welcome all constructive criticism because I wasn't planning on writing another action fic but here we are :P

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They stand at the foot of the stage, a few paces apart to keep things relaxed, but Harvey's barely listening to the MC's speech as it draws in the crowd. His eyes are glued to Donna, slipping over the gold lace draped around her curves, the dress that's had him memorized all night. In a sea of designer gowns hers is the only one he's noticed, the smile she's been wearing calling him like a beacon and putting everything else to shame.

Even the elaborate hall hasn't registered his interest, Louis harping on about the architecture going in one ear and out the other ever since the moment he'd spotted her. She'd insisted on getting ready at hers, catching him completely off guard, and he'd approached her with a tightness wrapped around his words, joking about turning her right back around and heading to his condo. She'd responded with a playful gleam, telling him they need a life outside his bedroom as well, and he's still only half in agreement.

Unfortunately the biennial charity gala is a permanent fixture in his calendar, the exclusivity reaching out to a deep pocketed higher society. It's essentially a ground for networking that's landed him several big clients over the years and to slip out would be considered a social faux pas, not to mention impossible given the attention they've been receiving- his pride swelling at people's interest in the stunning redhead on his arm.

He'd attended the event stag previously but has had no hesitation introducing her as his girlfriend, much to the dismay of several female acquaintances who have been circling with closed-minded opinions. The majority of the gossip though has been harmless and she plays it all down because she's Donna, but that only seems to charm people's curiosity more. If he _was_ here to poach clients he has no doubt she'd have them signing in minutes, and he isn't deterred when she suddenly catches his gaze with a pointed look.

_Stop staring. _

His answering grin easily disarms the warning, stirring a modest blush along her cheeks that in his eyes makes her even more captivating. She doesn't need a $3000 dress to steal his attention. He's seen her look just at devastating waking up in one of his old shirts but her 'guy' really out did himself this time, and he isn't sure whether to thank the tailor or be jealous there's another man out there that's so in-tune with her body. It's a thought he doesn't care to deliberate on and a round of applause snaps him away from it, his hands joining in automatically. It helps curbs the impulse to reach out and touch her, his eyes straying from the opening at her thigh up to the formidable smirk she's chasting him with. Of course she knows exactly what he's thinking, and for the sake of avoiding a potentially embarrassing situation he steps closer bringing himself inline with her so his gaze is forced ahead to the stage.

He searches for a distraction, steering away from the wildly inappropriate things he'd do if they were in private, and there's a movement behind the MC _that_-

The room plunges into darkness cutting the observation short, surprised gasps filling the blackness, and his hand winds around Donna's waist on instinct ushering her forward with an uncoordinated stumble. His elbow hits the edge of something hard but he ignores the flash of pain, paranoia fabricating a danger that may or may not exist. He thought he saw a gun and that's what's important. He's not willing to taking any chances, feeling his way blindly through the crushed velvet curtains as Donna trips up in front of him.

The lights flicker on suddenly, a resonating gunshot dispersing the chaotic chatter, and his heart slams violently into his chest until he realizes they're still cast in a shadow; they can move without being seen and his fingers squeeze Donna's waist with silent encouragement, her steps wavering as she drops to an open crawl space beneath beneath the podium.

He doesn't like it, the tight entrance making him feel claustrophobic, but she's already wriggling her way through and he doesn't hesitate. She trusted him a few moments ago and now it's his turn, his ears straining to hear the muffled demands being shouted above them. The demands for surrender spin through his head leading him to the conclusion it's a heist of some-sort, and whoever the group are they're not amateurs. Every guest in the room is cut off; no cellphones, nothing so much as nail scissors that could be used as a weapon thanks to the security procedures. What was meant to keep them safe may have just screwed them but he doesn't linger on the negative thoughts, focusing on finding a way through the cobweb covered beams jutting out at his shoulders.

Donna makes it look easy, her smaller frame able to slip through where he keeps getting stuck, and he's close to making a comment about exercises in futility when he remembers her theater knowledge, why she seems to have a clear idea of where they'e heading, and he bites down his reservations, arms twitching with relief when she uncovers a maintenance exit. It's about 2/3rds smaller than a regular door and she goes first because it would be impossible to maneuver around her but he follows quickly, not wanting her alone on the other side, his body jarring through the snug fit until he's able to stand at full height beside her.

It's pitch back and she feels around for a cord, pulling it with a tug and illuminating a dim rusty globe. The space isn't much bigger than a closet housing a few old podiums and tools but it's a moment's reprieve, a chance to catch her breath as she stares at him with wide eyes. "How did you know?"

He opens his mouth to answer but replaces the failed explanation with a shake of his head. He _didn't_, not exactly. Had he been looking anywhere else at that particular second, or chosen to ignore his instincts, they'd still be back there and he's grateful they both managed to get out in time but not completely able to conceal his worry. Even with the darkness cast across her features she looks unnaturally pale and he takes her hand with a small squeeze, "you okay?"

The concern feels misplaced given the situation they left everybody in and she swallows roughly, afraid to say what she's thinking. "_Harvey__..._"

His name trails off into silence, her face twisting with more uncertainty and he can see she's scared. He is too but they're in a position to help, they just have to smart about what they do next. "We'll find a phone, call the police... it's going to be alright."

It's an empty reassurance. He can't know for sure they'll be safe until then but she clings to it anyway steeling herself against small waves of panic rising up. Right now they're not the ones in danger and the thought calms her as he moves to the door, testing it with a sigh.

"Locked."

He throws the observation back over his shoulder, watching as she reaches up into her hair sliding out two pins. It takes him a moment to figure out what she's doing and an involuntary smirk tugs at his lips. "Why am I not surprised you know how to pick a lock?"

"Because I'm _Donna_." She finds her voice more confidently hooking up an eyebrow as she ushers him out of the way, slipping the bent metal into the keyhole. It's not as easy as they make it look in the movies and it takes a good five to ten minutes before she manages to find a rhythm, Harvey keeping silent despite an ever-so-slight bounce back and forth on his heels.

When she finally has the inner mechanism lined up she turns the handle with a satisfying click.

He can't say he isn't impressed but the relief is fleeting and he quickly replaces her grip with his own, his expression edged with whatever authority he can muster. There's no reason for both of them to go. Arguably it's smarter if one of them stays behind but she cuts off the reasoning before he's able to defend it.

"I'm coming." She's adamant, reading the intent behind his muscling around her but there's no way in hell she's letting him leave alone. Her worry aside, he'd be stuck at the first locked door he came across. "You need me."

"_Need_?" He queries out of habit more than anything. What he _needs_ is for her to be safe, not running around putting herself in danger trying to protect him. "Donna, I can handle it."

She tries to stem her irritation knowing he's only acting like an idiot out of concern but that's even more reason for her to go with him, to make sure he doesn't do anything rash. They work because they're a team and she softens her expression, gently thumbing the crook of his elbow to sway him. "I'll be careful."

His doubt expels in a heavy sigh but the echo of a gunshot renders him still, the hairs on his neck standing alert and on edge. He can't control what's happening in there and it's killing him but at least if Donna's with him he can make sure nothing happens to her. "Stay behind me."

He's firm with the compromise and she nods, praying no one was hurt as she breathes out- wincing as bright light floods the room.

He's cautious with his steps but there's no one else in sight, the small corridor looking to be a level below where the hall is situated. From what she can tell it's a passageway used for stage access and storage only, which means if they want a phone they're going to need to go up.

He reaches the sames conclusion leading them to the neon running man hovering above the stairwell, his gaze dropping to the security panel that's flashing green. It means they're probably going to need a pass to get beyond the ground level, leaving them limited to where they can and can't search for help, and he checks the theory once they're inside, climbing back down from the second floor with an agitated glance at the numbers painted on the wall. "That's our only way out."

She suspected as much but it doesn't make her any less nervous, knowing there are bound to be people armed on the other side. It would be a pretty shitty heist if there weren't and she smooths down her dress trying to make herself look the part in case they do they get caught. So long as she's in character she's confident she can talk her way out of almost anything and she watches Harvey brush the dust from his suit, her eyes trailing the movement of his hands with a smirk.

He catches the inquisitive stare and stalls, confusion drawing his brows together. "What?"

"Nothing." She bites the inside of her cheek with a step forward, helping to straighten his bow-tie. With all hell breaking loose it's not such a stretch to paint him in as the next 007 but the white jacket is pretty much a lost cause, caked with smudges of dirt and he's going to have to lose it, but she steals a moment to mourn the loss. "Just... indulging a little fantasy."

He raises an eyebrow, watching in fascination as her cheeks speckle with pink. "So the Bond thing gotcha huh?" He teases, shrugging out of the jacket.

She opens her mouth in protest, drawing up to where he's seemingly far too pleased with himself, and she shakes her head with a tight smile. "I was thinking more John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever."

"No you weren't-" he challenges, letting his cockiness slide down a notch, "because you've seen me dance." Her expression relaxes slightly, a soft chuckle parting her lips and he flings the fabric over the rail ready to abandon it completely. While he's never set out to imitate anyone he won't deny taking inspiration from certain suave, sophisticated espionage movies and he rolls up his sleeves baiting the hook. "I assume that make you Tiffany Case in this scenario?"

She rolls her eyes knowing he's only picking a redheaded Bond girl to wind her up, alluding that her hair color is all she's limited to when they both know it's not. "We really need to work on your character associations." Lana Lang, Iceman, Butch _and_ Sundance- he really does get it backwards sometimes but the casualness falls from her expression as she steps closer to him. While he likes to pretend he's Superman, he isn't, but he _is_ loyal and protective to fault, something he needs to try and reign in if they do run into any kind of trouble. "Promise me you won't be a hero."

He lifts his hands settling them against her arms and circling a sigh around his mouth. He has no intention of taking any risks but he can't lie and say he won't do anything in his power to protect her. She's the most the important person in his life and he presses a chaste kiss to her forehead, careful with his reassurance. "It's going to be okay."

The answer is evasive and not what she's looking for but he's already moving and she knows he'll be more focused if she acts complicit. It might not be the best strategy but it's the one she has, and she keeps her promise staying behind him as they exit the stairwell.

The only sound is the click of the door as Harvey pulls it shut and her eyes trail the lavish corridor, the expensive artwork and antiques she'd previously admired giving the stillness an eerie feel. She tries to place their surroundings as they walk quickly in search of a phone. It could have easily once been a private school or theater, not the banquet hall it is now, but the layout doesn't become any more apparent as they wind their way through, her heels teetering when Harvey's stops suddenly.

He pulls her back around the corner before she can ask any questions, his arms locking firmly around her waist, and she leans against his chest keeping perfectly still.

A second later the sound of footsteps shuffle passed, making her swallow nervously, and it's only when the tail end of a shadow sweeps by that she feels Harvey relax, his breath rushing hotly against her ear. "You know, under different circumstances..."

"Don't." She chides, still reeling with adrenaline as he heeds the warning releasing his hold.

He doesn't stray far slipping his hand into hers with a gentle tug and she has no choice but to collect herself and follow, feeling a wave of relief when they spot a door up ahead. He reaches it first, rattling it with a frustrated sigh and she steadies herself as best she can slipping two more pins from her hair, ignoring his almost comical look.

He's on the verge of voicing his curiosity, wondering how many clips she has tucked away up there, but instead he angles himself as a shield casting his gaze down the hall for any signs of movement. All jokes aside he's never seen her wearing it like that before and it's just one of the reasons he's been captivated tonight. In recent years she's taken to having it long and straight in the office and the softness of it, the loose curls framing her face make him murmur the musings out loud. "I like it like that." He throws the comment over his shoulder and to hell with it, in for a penny in for a pound.

"Everything, I mean you _look..._" he shakes his head, breathing in sharply and finding it ridiculous he can't even settle on the right words with his back turned, but her light teasing puts him at ease.

"And here I thought you hadn't noticed?" She only falters for second, trying to stay focused on the task at hand but the truth is he doesn't need to say anything. The way he's been looking at her since she arrived has said it all and she feels him smirk, wishing she'd given in and agreed to get ready at his condo. Right now she'd give anything to back there, not running around like they're in some Nintendo 64 video game, and the regret seeps into her impulses, the suggestion out of her mouth before she can stop it. "We should move in together."

A stunted silence follows the outburst making her stomach drop with further unease and she swallows thickly, the sudden click of the lock an even more welcome escape. She's never pushed anything in their relationship, always letting him be the one to guide the way, and before now they've always seemed to be in sync but his hesitation drives her into the room, her eyes scanning the small office and landing on a phone. The object takes precedence above everything else and she beelines toward it, picking it up and flinching at distressing quiet that meets her ears; no dial tone.

She drops the receiver back into its cradle, leaning heavily against the desk and fighting the tears of frustration that spring to her eyes. "They cut the line."

He's just as deflated but is equally torn by the catch in her voice knowing he's partially responsible for it. He should of come clean straight away but he can't leave the door, worried it will lock, so he does what he can to break the tension simmering between them. "I was going to ask."

She glances up confused by his soft expression. It's not what she's expecting, especially if he was just trying to appease her, and she relinquishes her hold on the polished wood folding her arms shyly across her chest. "Then why didn't you?"

"Because there's a place I'm interested in-" he admits, a small smile touching his lips, "but it won't be ready for another week and I wanted to surprise you."

She's even more puzzled by the explanation and inclines her head to the side trying to read what he's getting at. He loves his condo, just like she loves her apartment, and of all the ways she imagined having this conversation jumping ship was never one of them. "You want to _move_, move?"

He shrugs, the idea not set in stone but one he's been seriously considering. When Mike had jokingly emailed him about a 'settle down' property he'd brushed it off with the same intent but then he'd gotten to thinking; something with a garden, a library for their combined art and books, a few extra rooms... it makes sense and he addresses her confusion testing the waters. "I just figured in case we needed more space, you know for a dog, or-" he waves his arm indirectly, letting her fill in the rest.

"A family?" She rocks forward on her heels, the fact he's been considering all this swelling in her chest despite the fact they haven't really talked about it. It's always been one if those things that's come second to the firm and the way he opens his mouth, promptly closing it again reminds her that now isn't the time but it is incentive for them to figure a way out of this mess. "We need a new plan."

He's relieved by the change of subject, his fingers starting to cramp over the handle, and he skims his free hand against her waist silently telling her they're not finished with the conversation. He might not be James Bond but in his mind that's only a good thing because he has something better than fancy suits and and suave charisma; he has her, and that's all he needs to take on the bad guys.

And that's exactly what he plans to do.


	2. Chapter 2

They hover by the door and she brushes her dress down with an errant hand circling through their options to make sure they haven't missed any. With the phone lines cut they need a way out but can't risk any of the obvious exits. Going up makes sense. It's an old building, there's probably a fire escape like he's suggesting, but she's still nervous as her gaze falls to him. "So now you think we could stick a landing?"

His head falls to the side with a half-hearted shrug. "Even in speedos, Louis is a lot less threatening."

A huff catches in her throat picturing Louis in his swimwear. Harvey had literally jumped behind her for protection when they'd encountered the sight and she swallows the sound, her mouth slipping into a small smirk. "_Please_, you were terrified."

Shocked would be a better description but he doesn't defend himself, flexing his fingers against the handle. They're starting to cramp but the uncertainty resting in her features skirts around the edge of his resolve. Either way they have to make a decision and he softens his expression, keeping his tone light. "Or we stay?"

_And hide. _

Those are the words he doesn't say but she hears them anyway, the resoluteness snaking down her spine. These are their friends and he's only suggesting the option to protect her, the 'we' being part of her ultimatum, and even though he would- they can't.

"Let's go."

A flicker of doubt makes him hesitate, the urge to keep her safe rearing again, but she covers his hand with a soft squeeze and he nods, slowly opening the door.

They're met by an empty silence and he steps out keeping her behind him as they navigate down the winding hall and he wishes he'd paid more attention to Louis' quips about the building. The guy had been prattling on for at least ten minutes about the window fittings and god knows what else, information that would probably have come in handy if he'd bothered listening.

Donna follows closely, almost reaching for him when he starts taking the turns more abruptly. Faster isn't necessarily safer -just reckless- and she's ready to pull him back at the next junction when her heel snags on the bottom of her dress. She falters, palming the wall to salvage what she can of the train when a loud shout makes her stomach clench with fear.

Harvey stops dead ahead of her, obscured from view, and she forces her gaze to the man approaching trying to reign in her panic. She's an actress after all. It's just another role she has to play and her fingers push off the tiling, her lips winding in a seductive smile. It stops the sandy haired man in his tracks, his shoulders stiffening, but that doesn't slow her momentum as she toys with the split in her dress.

"Wardrobe malfunction-" she explains naively, fluttering her eyelashes as his attention drops to the torn lace, "I was looking for scissors but everywhere is locked."

He rocks on his feet, clearly suspicious, and she tucks a few stray hairs behind her ear drawing her mouth into a pout. She's chancing him getting closer, hoping if she can distract him Harvey will get the upper-hand, because as desperate as she is for him to stay hidden, she knows there's no way in hell he will. It makes her chest tighten with adrenaline and she leans on every trick she knows, clutching at the material and exposing more of her thigh. "I could use your help, if you wouldn't mind?"

He moves without question, dipping into a crouch and she swallows roughly, doing a count to three in her head before bringing her knee up in a swift fluid motion. Harvey is at her side with lightening reflexes, his second hit landing the man unconscious and she inhales sharply, catching his elbow to steady herself. "Thanks."

He shakes his fist ignoring the sting as he turns to her. "Are you okay?"

The question rushes out in concern, his eyes searching hers for any indication she's hurt but her silent nod reassures him and he exhales his panic, amazed by how she handled herself. Impressed but also slightly terrified by the performance she just gave. "You're starting to scare me."

Her lips quirk in amusement but he's already a step ahead of her, bending to pat the man down, and pulling a gun from inside his jacket. He holds it loosely in his hand, the object looking out of place and she hesitates as he stands back up.

Unlike Louis she's never known him to step inside of range and she raises an eyebrow at the timid grasp. "Do you even know how to use that thing?"

He turns it over with a shrug. "Aim and shoot, right?"

She throws him a skeptical look, opening her palm, and he tilts his head to the side drawing his mouth into a thin line as his gaze roams her dress. "Where exactly do you plan on hiding it?"

"Seriously?" She admonishes him and motions again, closing her grip around the weapon as he reluctantly relinquishes it. The first thing she does is test the safety, clicking it on and off, before sliding down the chamber to check for bullets. Satisfied it still has a full round she jams the cartridge back into place, wearing a smirk as she holds the barrel offering him the grip.

The look on his face is priceless.

"Holy _shit_..." he breathes out the curse, his eyes wide as they travel back up to hers, "I'm dating an assassin, aren't I?"

"Connecticut Junior Pistol Championship Finalist, three years in a row." It rolls off her tongue with ease but she keeps her arm outstretched toward him, "there's more to Bond than Martini's and expensive suits."

He falters, knowing she's placating him by offering it back but if its a choice between his masculinity or her actually being able to shoot the damn thing he's not going to let his pride rob them of the advantage. "You get that whole black widow thing was meant to be a joke, right?"

She takes the quip as her answer and lowers the weapon keeping it down by her side. He's was right about one thing; she's not exactly wearing a garter to conceal it but that's hardly their biggest problem and truthfully she's just glad they have something to defend themselves with now. "I'll let you pick which Bond girl you want to be."

He rolls his eyes in response but at this point he'll be whoever she goddamn wants him to be. His girlfriend is a total badass and he's not about to disagree with her, though his tone is still light as he plays along. "I can't be superman?"

"How about you save those powers for Metropolis instead?" She throws back, though the casual banter replaced by a more serious air as she motions for him to take the lead. The openness is starting to make her uneasy and he slips into the same mindset but doesn't move just yet, crouching down instead.

He's not going to risk her getting tangled up again and rips the lace at the hem of her dress, ready to make a comment about her ditching the heels as well when she stops him with a warning look. In her defense they haven't hindered her until now and he isn't about argue, straightening and taking her free hand with a gentle tug.

She follows without question, her feet moving faster without the constriction and hoping they can find a way up soon because whoever they just knocked out, he isn't going to stay down for long and once the group figures out there are hostages on the loose it won't matter which floor they end up on.

They're going to be completely and utterly screwed.

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**AN:** Thank you for all the lovely comments and reviews! I know it's short, this chapter was a bit of a bridging gap... the next one will be longer :)


	3. Chapter 3

The wind is bitter as Harvey hangs over the edge of the roof, his eyes pinpointing how far down the fire-escape they need to go. The frame supporting the stairs is covered in rust, the whole structure not used for years judging by the look of it, but it's in better condition than he expected so he shelves the concern. They wasted enough time finding a way up here and it still beats any of their other alternatives. They're just going to have to move carefully and pushes back, angling his body toward Donna with a shrug. "You're not going to like it."

She doesn't miss his once-over, his gaze dropping to her feet, and she knows instantly where his worry is stemming from. "You want me to take off my heels."

He's not sure why he feels a tug of sympathy. It should be a non-issue and he meets her pout with a tilt of his head, "unless you want to climb down six flights of stairs wearing them?" The comment is supposed to jar her into giving in but she falters -as if considering it- and he steps forward blowing air into his cheek, "_Donna.._."

"Fine." She relents, digging her fingers under the straps. He does have a point. Stiletto's aren't exactly appropriate footwear for scaling down scaffolding and she hands him the hilt of the gun, shifting the ownership as she balances, slipping her feet out onto the cold cement.

He nestles the weapon in the back of his trousers, making sure it's secure before guiding her to the edge and she takes in the drop with a sharp exhale. She isn't usually scared of heights but a sudden hit of vertigo leaves her bracing the wall. Despite everything that's happened tonight this is the first time she's felt genuinely afraid and she watches Harvey slide over first, his small bounce to test the structure making her stomach lurch. "Maybe we shouldn't..."

He glances across at the hesitancy, her features unnaturally pale in the dim light but the grate is sturdy beneath his weight. There's no way he'd risk letting her on if there was any chance of it coming lose and he extends his hand, completely serious as he finds her gaze. "It'll hold, trust me."

Trust isn't the issue. It's the sway she feels when she places her palm in his that has her suddenly nauseous but she ties to calm the feeling as she steps across, reminding herself what's at stake.

"You okay?

His gentle concern steels her resolve and she nods. They have to do this and she motions for him to go first, letting go of his hand and replacing it with a death-like grip around the railing. She's almost tempted to leave her shoes so she has more freedom to move but slips the straps over her wrist instead, the slight bumping as she starts to climb down something else to focus on.

He moves faster than she does, not hindered by the creaks and groans as he navigates the narrow rungs. The only thing that slows him is a pause at each turn to make sure she's still with him, her anxiety masked until they reach the last platform. They're just a few feet off the ground but her lips are drawn in a thin line, her body starting to tremble and he makes the jump first, his arms stretching up to help her. "It's okay... I've got you."

She crouches down screwing her eyes shut, feeling his hands sink around her waist and guiding her- embarrassment flushing her features. She's not used to wearing her vulnerability so openly but then again she's never been trying to flee a hostage situation before either, and she gives him a quick reassuring squeeze. "I'm good."

He's surprised by the speed with which she collects herself but shouldn't be. She's more than proved an extensive range of skills tonight and he keeps a light hold at her elbow, supporting her weight as she slips back into her heels. He wants to tell her how proud he is but now isn't the time and when she's steady on her feet he pulls her with a gentle tug, "we _should_-"

"Don't move."

The click of a gun sends a chill racing down his spine and his first instinct is to raise his palms slowly, keeping Donna behind him as he turns to face the foreign voice. He's met by a fierce gaze staring through a ski mask and he swallows sharply, looking for a way out. "We didn't see anything-" he tries to reason, "nobody needs to get hurt." The lie doesn't fall as smoothly as it would coming from Donna. He's not an actor, that much abundantly clear when the man holding the weapon takes no notice of it.

"You've got a smart mouth, don't ya?"

The assailant takes a step froward, his grip wavering with a snigger and Harvey winces at the aggression, his stomach clenching as the gun lines up over his shoulder.

"Come on baby... no reason to be shy."

It takes all his composure not to retaliate but Donna's feather light touch keeps him grounded, the pressure at his waistband easing as she maneuvers out the gun. He's careful not to react, grinding his jaw as he warns the man off. "Don't."

"What's the matter pretty boy, afraid of a little competition?"

He breathes in sharply, clamping his mouth shut so he doesn't see red. Donna can take care of herself, he knows that but there's a big difference between handling a weapon and using it. He doesn't want to be the reason she has to take the shot and he stands in silence clenching his fists.

"Just what I thought, she clearly needs a _real_ man to satisfy her needs."

The way he says it, the leer in his eyes right before lunging is what drives Harvey to react. He doesn't think. The only thing that resonates is the primal need to protect the woman behind him, moving to block the advance when a gunshot rings out turning his body slack. Spots dance across his vision, his chest tightening in a whirlwind of panic, Donna's shout the last thing he's fully aware of before the darkness encases him.


End file.
